Framed
by CrownedInThorns
Summary: Miles Edgeworth discovers that he's nearsighted, and prescription in hand, goes out to Lordly Tailor to get himself a fine pair of specs. Much to his dismay, he winds up having to take along Phoenix Wright's rowdy assistant, Maya Fey. Simple fluff.


Miles Edgeworth did not like to go shopping alone. As a matter of fact, he just flat out couldn't do it without stirring up a massive bout of vain anxiety. Usually a forceful man, his confidence surprisingly fell flat when it came to his fashion sense, probably a result of von Karma's immediate incineration of every article of clothing from his childhood, the clothing he had so loved and cherished, upon adoption. Of course, he'd never admit to this sort of tic, so the person who wound up accompanying him to his only haunt, Lordly Tailor, was his adoptive sister, Franziska. Today, much to his dismay, was turning out differently.

_'I knew it. I should have asked Wright--not this crazed, hyperactive excuse for an assistant of his. But God, that suit of his…no, it would have ended in shambles.'_

"Ooh, found it! C'mon, this way," he heard the perky voice of Maya Fey only inches away, blasting her voice at full-volume nonetheless and linking her hand with his, "don't worry, I'll guide you there."

Edgeworth quickly pulled away from her grasp, trying his best to hide a look of disgust. Could that slimy feeling now in his palm be burger grease? With a little effort, he quickly pushed that disastrous possibility out of his mind.

"That's quite alright, Ms. Fey. I'm far off from being blind."

Maya thought about commenting on the gang's most recent get together at a nearby beach, and Edgeworth's utter shock at Phoenix's lack of nipples, but thought better of it. Who would've thought that the brilliant 'Demon Prosecutor' was completely unaware of his poor eyesight for so many years?

"So if I start running away, you'll be able to follow me, Edgey?" The girl chided mischievously, charging forth before her addressee could answer. The strange pair had already earned a number of looks from fellow customers, but now nearly every pair of eyes in the store was turned towards the calamity-inciting Maya, and a very embarrassed Edgeworth. Why, of all times, did Franziska have to be abroad now? Truth be told, the man was only a hair away from leaving his childlike company there in the store, completely helpless, while he made a quick getaway.

But, in the end, his damned conscience won. He ambled about, gathering the necessary evidence (mostly based on the chattering among shoppers about Maya's strange appearance) to follow the now long-gone girl's path. He came to the realization that, unlike himself, Maya had excellent eyesight if she was truly able to see their destination and that frankly, there was no way in hell he'd be able to find it in anywhere under five minutes.

All of a sudden, with no warning, he felt her tiny hand take his once more. He flinched a little, showing a good amount of discomfort, but this time, did not pull away.

"Just admit it, you're old now! Blind as a bat!" She told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before resuming her previous motion: dragging the flustered prosecutor forcefully behind her.

"Well, here it is! Are you ready, Mr. Edgeworth?" She practically sparkled with positive energy, gesturing ahead.

The little store within a store was marked with a trendy, minimalist sign above its entrance. This was Framed, a shop that had received countless praises from the bespectacled elite over its many years of business. Edgeworth had fond memories of visiting with his father several times over the years that they were able to spend together, finding himself disappointed at the drastic shift in décor over the years. It had long since transformed from the intimate setting of its past: outfitted in well-worn leather ottomans and mahogany, and lit dimly by a few carefully placed overhanging glass lamps. The place was now tragically generic, resembling your typical LensCrafters with a few distinguishing features that would warn any poor, lost soul of the price he would be expected to pay for a quality pair of specs.

"I was ready eons ago. As a matter of fact, I would have been finished with this whole thing entirely if it weren't for your shenanigans."

"And you would've left with granny glasses, Matt Murdock. Now, let's get you in and ready to join the world of the sighted!" Maya pulled him along for the final stretch, leading him into this snow white little corner of Lordly Tailor devoted to the myopic. Edgeworth made sure to tear his hand away from hers before actually entering.

Inside the deceptively small space lay hundreds of lens-less glasses, pinned in rows against illuminated walls like a collection of butterfly specimens. A plump woman, whom Edgeworth later guessed to be in her late thirties, manned a glass desk in the back of the shop, decorated only with a stack of business cards and a stunning ikebana flower arrangement that, at that moment, was concealing her face almost entirely. Maya distastefully cleared her throat in a bizarre attempt to seem sophisticated.

"Excuse me, miss. But would you mind offering us your assistance? My friend is here to procure a pair of glasses," her effort at a distinguished tone was laughable, but whatever cloudy feelings Edgeworth may have had about the situation were overshadowed by Maya's tremendous sense of accomplishment.

"Pretty good, huh? She'll definitely take us seriously now," she whispered gleefully into Edgeworth's ear, taking a brief pause before adding, "I should try talking like you more often!" The man clenched his fists, trying his best to endure.

_'What I'd give for Franziska to be here right now.'_

The woman, giving off a heavy sigh, finally stood up to get a look at her latest customers. Once she got a look, she perked up almost immediately.

"Oh! Hello there, sir. What can I do for you today?" She said in a honey-coated voice, pushing her flamboyantly pink glasses up along the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to conceal the wandering eyes making their way up and down the prosecutor's body.

"Thank you, but I'll be just fine," he retorted just a little to quickly, barely able to conceal the venom in his speech.

"Are you sure? I couldn't help but hear that this is your first time buying glasses. It can be kind of tricky finding what looks good on you the first time around, but I've been here for years so I'm sure—"

"That's quite alright. I wouldn't want to interrupt you from whatever you're working on."

If Edgeworth had balled his fists any tighter, his nails, though finely trimmed and cared for, would've ripped right through his skin. Maya picked up the hint.

"Don't worry, I actually came to help my BOYFRIEND out. I was just asking 'cause I figured he'd want someone who knows a thing or two about glasses, but I guess he'll be alright as long as he has lil' old me!" She enthusiastically threw her arms around his neck closing in on his ear, "play along."

For the first time in her life, Maya left Edgeworth truly impressed.

"Oh yes, my darling little mushroom! And truly, you are the only one that I wish to appear handsome to. Ergo, who better to help me?"

The two would've been plummeted all the way to the emergency room if they attempted such a charade onstage, but the saleswoman seemed to accept the performance nonetheless. Slightly crushed, she lost all energy once more.

"Well, um, feel free to call me if you need any help. I'll be right through the door," she mumbled sullenly, making a gesture at a well-concealed entrance to a (most likely) miniscule back room before taking her leave.

Her departure left Edgeworth slightly more relaxed, but an air of awkwardness began to hover over him and his companion when the idea behind their shooing tactics sunk in. They shifted a little farther apart.

"So, well…are you ready to try on some glasses?" Maya was the first to speak.

"…That is what I'm here for," he responded, taking a seat in a diner-style chrome stool in front of a mirror to look through some leftover pairs, waiting to be resorted, already lying on a nearby white table. Maya took a position directly behind him, fully prepared to scrutinize each and every pair donned.

The first pair he reached for, unsurprisingly, was a near replica of his father's old frames: black-rimmed and slightly rectangular. He adjusted them on his face, hesitated, finally turning towards Maya, eyes seeking some sort of judgment.

"Hmmm, nope. They don't go with you."

"What do you mean by that?" He said, a faint tinge of disappointment forming in his heart. He had always thought that his father looked quite handsome in this style of eyewear.

"They look like glasses really nice people would wear."

_'Truly, this girl is one of a kind. She doesn't even seem to understand the implications made by that statement at all.'_

With a brief sigh of irritation, Edgeworth set the pair to the side, grabbing another instead. This process was repeated for the better part of an hour, leaving Maya to retrieve more and more frames from their places on the wall. He wouldn't place any kind of bet on the assumption that the girl intended to return them to their original places.

"Okay, here we go! Number fifty-three," the enthusiasm oozing from her voice was nowhere to be found in Edgeworth.

"Must you really count every pair of frames I put on my face?"

"Yup! Now try 'em on."

It was a delicate pair of silvered wire frames, eyepieces ovular in shape. Though aware that they would become quite a bit heavier when fitted with lenses, the prosecutor couldn't help but be taken aback by how light they felt. He spent the next minute adjusting the pair along the bridge of his nose, tilting his head in different directions and adjusting his hair, before finally taking up his infamous smirk and turning towards Maya.

"Well?"

The girl's face had become completely serious, cheeks coloring to the slightest degree. The glasses were perfect, understated, yet somehow accentuating the handsome features of the slightly older man. Like most women, she had always found him fairly good-looking, but in a more passive and disinterested sort of way. This was truly the first time that her heart had skipped a beat for him.

"You look…handsome. Very, very handsome, Mr. Edgeworth."

He perked up at the words, finally releasing himself from his temporary bout of conceit to study the spirit medium in training. He had grown so used to this reaction, this face that nearly every female he met bore, that each of them had begun to meld and blur together, taking on no meaning for the man. But Maya…Maya was off-limits, an impossibility. He wouldn't forget her face, showing the older, more distinguished beauty that she could, maybe, one day become.

Standing, he closed his eyes in a sad sort of peace, his smile becoming far more temperate. Reaching forward, he grasped for the girl's long, dark hair, running his fingers through the front as he placed the strands behind her small, pink ears.

"Et tu, Maya?" He muttered, half to himself, as he removed the frames he had chosen from his profile, carefully folding them to take up to the woman's still-abandoned desk.

Finally, the pair exited the store, walking in silence, Edgeworth with a receipt, telling him to come back in a week to pick up his new eyewear.

"Hey, uhhh, I'm pretty hungry, and I did spend all that time helping you out. Think you can take me out to dinner?" Maya managed to sputter.

"I suppose I should," he smiled, glad to have the silence broken once more.

"Really? Okay, let's go for burgers!" She giggled triumphantly as she grabbed for his hand, dragging him ever forward into the night.


End file.
